March 10, 2011

Location: The NRH auditorium at 5:45 pm. There is a steady stream of students and faculty filing in for the inaugural NRH Stage Night.

Kevin Reilly and Jon Baron: [To Sean Albertson] Yo! Yo! Yo!

Sean: What’s up Kev? Jon?

Kevin: Looking to win mucho dinero tonight! [Climbs over Sean and plops down into the seat next to him.]

Sean: Mucho dinero?

Jon: [Climbs over them both and sits next to Kevin] Dude bet Mitch Bennett that Kids of the Black Hole is gonna’ win the Battle of the Bands. 

Sean: How much?

Jon: A hundred bucks.

Sean: What?!

Jon: It’s worse than that. He bet Mitch that they’d win by… what did you call it? “A landslide”?

Kevin: [Looking very pleased with himself] That’s right!

Sean: And what does that mean, exactly? 

Jon: Basically gave the kid points. He said KOBH would win by at least 20 votes. 

Sean: If Francie was here, she’d say you were a fucking idiot, and she’s in the band.

Kevin: [Shrugs] What can I say? I feel confident. And I’ve made so much cash working on Doc F’s car, I can afford a risky bet here or there.

Sean: Shit, man, if you’re gonna’ throw money around, send some my way.

Several rows down, Lance Donaldson, Brian Millman, Laurie Pence, Anna Harry, and Marissa Preston are hanging out and waiting for the show to start.

Laurie: [To Marissa] How stoked is Tim for this?

Marissa: [Holds up a hand] Don’t even get me started. He’s been driving me nuts.

Anna: If I never hear “I Love Livin’ in the City” again, it’ll be a mercy.

Laurie: [Laughing] Okay, there’s clearly a story that I missed.

Marissa: Look, I’m really happy for him. I’ve never seen him this hyped. But hearing the same songs played over and over again for months gets really old.

Anna: What about hearing the same parts of songs over and over again? Billy’s been playing the bass line for the main riff from “I Love Livin’ in the City” constantly. He even hums it to himself. Thank god this thing is tonight or I’d lose my mind.

Marissa: [Nods sympathetically] I know… it’s terrible. I’ve heard the Hammond organ intro to “Curtain Call” about a thousand times. 

Brian: [To Lance] Did you and Colleen go to the Mall last night?

Lance: Yeah, we were there until it closed. Where were you guys? We looked for you.

Brian: Danielle had midterms today, so she had to stay in and study.

Lance: Boo.

Brian: Did you have fun?

Lance: Tons. Colleen made it to, like, the seventh or eighth wave of Defender. Girl’s an 80s arcade game genius. She’s even good at Tempest.

Brian: I can’t play that game, it gives me panic attacks.

Lance: [Laughing] Life gives you panic attacks.

Brian: Hey, I’m getting better! I can go out with Danielle now without breaking out in cold sweats. The first time, I had to change outfits twice before picking her up.

Lance: Who do you think wins this thing?

Brian: Compton Boys, for sure.

Lance: Why?

Brian: Mitch invited me to their dress rehearsal. Those Fly Girls from Compton and Crenshaw…whew!

Lance: So, they’re gonna’ win because they have hot chicks dancing?

Brian: Not just that. The whole thing is choreographed like some Public Enemy video. And their set list is super groovy. People will be dancing in the aisles.

Lance: Mitch bet with Kevin Reilly.

Brian: Yeah, he told me. I hope Kevin doesn’t mind losing a hundred bucks.

Lance: I don’t know…Kids of the Black Hole are pretty good. I saw them practice a few weeks ago.

In the back row of the orchestra seats, Denise Diamond, Valerie Saunders, Liz Goodman, and Erica Carlson are lounging with their feet up on the empty seats in front of them.

Denise: Why isn’t Jaime sitting with us?

Valerie: She’s with Tom and Sal Levy.

Denise: [Rolls her eyes] Why would anyone want to sit with one of the teachers.

Liz: I think Sal’s cool. I have him for Physics 1 this semester.

Two somewhat geeky boys make for the row below, but Denise throws them a look dripping with disdain.

Denise: Move along, dorks. These seats are taken. 

One of the boys mumbles, “sorry,” and the two hurry off.

Valerie: [Turning to Denise] What is your problem, Dee?

Denise: What are you talking about?

Valerie: Why did you do that?

Denise: Tell those two dweebs to get lost? I’m comfortable.

Valerie: [Closes her eyes] For god’s sake.

Erica: Don’t you think it’s enough by now?

Denise: Uh, hello? Star Crew? [Gestures at the girls and then to herself]

Liz: It’s gotten stale, Dee. We’re not in Junior High.

Denise: You had no problem with it at Central, last year.

Erica: Are we seriously arguing about whether we should bully nerds?

Valerie: [Eyes still closed] Apparently, we are.

Denise: I don’t know what your guys’ major malfunction is. First Jaime and now you three. Even Sandy’s lost his mind.

Liz: [Quietly] Maybe, we figured out that you can be cool without being a jerk.

Denise: So, it’s a moral superiority pose? Please…get over yourselves.

Valerie: [Opens her eyes and growls] You know why Jaime doesn’t hang out with us, Dee? Because she can’t take your assholery anymore. Grow the fuck up!

Denise: [Jumps up from her seat] Screw all of you! I didn’t want to come to this stupid thing anyway. I’ll hang out with Mike, Carl and the other handful of cool kids left in this dumb school. [Storms out]

Erica: [Calling after her] Don’t hurry back!

The girls look at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

Tom, Sal, and Jaime are sitting in the front row, just off the center aisle.

Jaime: I won’t lie: I could do without the whole “talent show” part. I really don’t need to see some kid juggling oranges or doing magic tricks.

Tom: Let’s be nice, now.

Jaime: What happened to the guy who was mocking “teen theater” five months ago?

Tom: It wasn’t mocking, I was making a point.

Jaime: Oh, is that what it was?

Sal: It is a good thing the talent portion is first. I’m afraid if they’d opened with the Battle of the Bands, half of the audience would leave when it was over.

Tom: I suspect that was deliberate on the organizers’ part.

The lights dim and Mitch Bennett comes onto the stage, where there is a single mic set up. He raises his hands for quiet.

Mitch: My fellow students, faculty, guests, I want to welcome you to New Ridgemont High’s first Stage Night!!

A hearty cheer goes up. There is hooting and hollering. Loud whistling.

Mitch: But, before we start, I want to welcome our Principal and Student Body President: Will Friedman and Chloe Gold!!!

A single spotlight shoots up to the balcony, where the faculty are seated. Will and Chloe stand arm in arm. Chloe is radiant in a turquoise, strapless linen dress and matching open-toed heels, her golden curls spilling around her shoulders. Will is dressed in a white linen suit, a pastel pink open collar shirt, and close-toed sandals. With the light on them both, it is as if they are surrounded by a halo.

Chloe and Will each raise a hand in greeting, and the audience goes nuts. Shouts of “New Ridgemont High!” ring out. The two stand for a few moments, beaming, and then take their seats.

Tom: Oh, my.

Sal: [His mouth open] Well, that certainly is…something.

Jaime: [Stares at them for a moment and then leans over to Tom, whispering] I officially apologize for what I said to you at the last Exec meeting.

Sal: What was it you called them, Tom? “The King and Queen of New Ridgemont High?”

Tom: Yes. And they certainly are.

Mitch: [From the stage] So, what do you say we get this thing started?

The crowd roars, and the auditorium goes dark. Then, the curtain rises and Stage Night begins…

___

It’s 6:45 PM, and the talent portion of Stage Night has wrapped up. The curtain has come down again, and the house lights are on. Mitch is once again at the mic.

Mitch: And now the part of the evening that I know everybody has been waiting for.

Kevin: [Shouting] ROCK AND ROLL!!!!

Sean: Woo Hoo!!!

Mitch: The first act in our Battle of the Bands is Kids of the Black Hole!

Boy in the Audience: YEEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!

Mitch: With Joanne Genduso and Stacy Singer on vocals!

Someone blows an air horn.

Mitch: Fran Rosenberg on guitar!

Sean: [With his hands cupped around his mouth] FRANCIE!!!!!!

Mitch: Tim Goldstein on keyboards and Billy Johnson on Bass!

Anna and Marissa leap up and cheer.

Mitch: And Marty Savini on drums!

Kevin: MARTYYYYYY!

The lights dim and Mitch leaves the stage. The curtain goes up, and Joanne emerges from the darkness into a single spotlight. She’s in black leather pants, red Chuck Taylors and is wearing a Germs t-shirt. Grabs the mic with authority.

Joanne: Are you ready?!

A wild cheer from the crowd.

Joanne: I said, ARE YOU READY?!

The audience is on their feet now, and there is the deafening thunder of hundreds of kids stamping their feet.

Joanne: We are Kids of the Black Hole, and I love living in this FUCKING CITY!

The stage lights come ablaze and the band rips into Fear’s, “I Love Livin’ in the City”

Bobbie Novak is sitting with Pat Stark, Steve Fortunato and John Jameson up in the balcony.

John: Okay, these kids are freaking amazing.

Bobbie: I actually saw Fear back in the day. Fran plays better than Lee Ving.

Steve: You don’t seem like the punk type, Bobbie.

Bobbie: I saw as many shows as I could in the early 80s. You could tell something really special was happening in SoCal. We used to road trip to LA from Santa Barbara. We even went down to the Cuckoo’s Nest sometimes.

Pat Stark: I used to be a punk. I actually saw The Damned in 1980 in Newcastle, where I grew up.

Bobbie: That’s cool as shit.

Pat: The Clash too. Never saw the Pistols, though. They just seemed like a bunch of wankers. I couldn’t stand Johnny Rotten, that little twerp.

Steve: [Cracking up] Wankers?!

John: You certainly are full of surprises, Pat.

The band tears through the punk portion of the setlist and comes to the last number. The lights dim and Joanne steps up to the mic.

Joanne: Alright, guys, this is my last song before Stacey takes over vox.

Boy in the audience: You fucking RULE!!!!!

Joanne: This song is special to us. It was written by Rikk Agnew, who gave us permission to use the name for our group.

Sean: Oh boy, here it comes!

Joanne: And even though it’s about another place and time, it says a lot about where we are right now in this broken country of ours.

Valerie: [To Liz] She is soooo good.

Liz: I’m completely mesmerized, and I don’t even like punk rock.

Joanne: So, we dedicate this song to Rikk. To the city of Ridgemont. To all of you. To Doc F, especially. And to New Ridgemont High, our home and our refuge.

Girl in audience: YEEEAAAHHHHHH!!!!

Joanne: [In spoken voice]

The lights blaze on, Fran leaps forward, and the band blasts out the opening riffs of the Adolescents’ “Kids of the Black Hole.” The students in the orchestra seats all jump to their feet, shaking their fists in the air to the beat.

Chloe: [Clutches Will’s hand. Tearfully] We have to win this fight, Will!

Will: [Squeezes her hand back] Courage, sweetheart. We’re all in this together.

Chloe: Something about what Joanne just said really struck a nerve. It hit me how much I care about everyone here.

Will: [Offers her his handkerchief] You always have, and your classmates feel it. You were exactly what this school needed. Honestly, you’re what the whole country needs. We’re suffering from a serious compassion deficit.

Chloe: [Hisses, teeth clenched] I could tear that fucking Shirley Putsis to pieces with my bare hands. And that wretched gang of hers too. They won’t be satisfied until every teenager is in some labor camp…or prison.

Will: Me too. But the only way we see this through is on the High Road, to the very end.

Chloe: [Decompresses and rests her head on Will’s shoulder. Whispers] To the very end.

The band finishes their punk set and Joanne bows and heads backstage. The cheers from the audience are relentless, so she returns and bows again, her eyes shining with excitement and a triumphant smile on her face.

The auditorium goes dark and is then illuminated with a deep blue light. Lee Lindberg, who is crouched behind the back curtain, switches on a dry-ice machine, and mist begins crawling across the stage. Tim Goldstein appears under a spotlight, alongside a stack of keyboards, and he and the entire rig seem to float on the mist until they stop just to the left of Marty’s drumkit.

Brian: [To Lance] Oh, wow……

Lance: I told you, man. Don’t count them out.

Brian: I had no idea. This is incredible.

Tim begins playing the opening chords to The Damned’s “Curtain Call” on the Hammond organ. Stacey Singer appears on the right of the stage and moves slowly over to the mic. She’s in a white lace, high collared Victorian dress and stands tall in six inch, stiletto-heeled white patent leather boots. An echo effect has been added to her voice, which gives it a ghostly quality.

The audience seems stricken, and a hush goes through the auditorium. Fran’s guitar comes in, quiet and restrained.

Pat Stark: I can’t believe what I’m watching.

Steve Fortunato: [His arm around Pat’s shoulder] It’s sheer magic is what it is.

Stacey takes the mic from the stand and moves to the edge of the stage. Raises her hand and passes it over the awestruck kids in the front row like she’s giving a benediction.

Tim and Billy add their voices to Stacey’s, forming a three part harmony.

The stage lights come on and the full band comes crashing in, playing with raucous abandon. There is a gasp from the crowd, and then the kids are back on their feet, cheering KBOH on.

Twenty minutes later, the second set is finished, and Joanne returns to the stage as the band takes their final bows, their faces flushed with excitement. The applause is deafening. Lee comes out from the back, clapping so vigorously that his hands turn red. He grabs the mic.

Lee: How great is this band, everyone?! Give it up one more time for Kids of the Black Hole!

Another roar from the crowd. The members of the band wave one last goodbye and disappear behind the stage.

Kevin: [To Sean and Jon] What did I fucking tell you guys?! They absolutely SLAYED!

Jon: No doubt man, that was killer. I can’t believe how good Joanne was. And Stacey… she’s like the freaking Goth Queen.

Sean: Francie tore it up.

Jon: They were all amazing. 

Kevin: I can already feel that hundred bucks in my wallet!

Sean: You might want to wait and see what the Compton Boys have up their sleeves, before you start counting your winnings.

Kevin: No way, man. No chance. 

Jon: Shhh, Mitch is back on the mic.

Mitch: And now for the second act in our Battle of the Bands. Please welcome MCs Myron Freelander, Ben Gibbs, and Charlie Smith!

Boy in the Audience: CHARLIE!!!!!

Mitch: And give it up for DJ Randy Dixon!

A shout of RAN-D! goes out.

Mitch: Also please join me in welcoming some special guests — the creme de la creme of Compton and Crenshaw’s cheerleading squads, the CC Girls!

Several Boys: YOWZAAAA!

Mitch: It is my supreme pleasure to give you, THE COMPTON BOYS!

The curtain goes up, and the stage is completely dark, except for four spotlights. Three of them are on mics at the front, and the fourth is on a set of turntables on a riser in the back.

Randy steps up to the turntables, his arms crossed in front of him. Then, Myron, Ben, and Charlie approach their mics. All three are dressed in Adidas track suits. Myron is sporting a fedora, and Charlie is in a Kangol bucket hat.

Ben: [In a heavily affected “ghetto” voice] Yo’, Myron.

Myron: Ben.

Ben: Where we from, Myron?

Myron: California.

Ben: Yo’, Charlie.

Charlie: ‘Sup, Ben?

Ben: Where we from?

Charlie: The good ‘ol USA.

Ben: [Waves a hand at them dismissively] You boys are trippin’. Hey Randy!

Randy: Yes, Ben?

Ben: Tell everyone where we’re from, man.

Randy: [Shouts] STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON!

There’s a flash of light and smoke from a machine offstage, and Randy hits the turntables, which immediately come to life. Six girls in biker pants, tube tops, and basketball sneakers burst out, three on each side, and the Compton Boys break into NWA’s “Straight Outta Compton.” The audience is momentarily stunned and then leaps to its feet.

Bobbie: [In amazement] This just gets better and better.

John: Crazy. Blown away.

Chloe: [Jumps up, dragging Will with her] Dance with me!

Will: [Laughing] Take it easy or I’m gonna’ pull something!”

When the song comes to a close, the lights dim and Ben and Charlie step away from their mics, leaving Myron on the stage. One of the dancers — Mitch’s girlfriend, Kim — takes up a position just behind him to his right.

Myron: When we were putting this thing together, we reached out to all the OGs for their permission to cover their songs. Each and every one of them answered us and gave their blessing. But one group in particular went above and beyond. They actually traveled across the country to watch us rehearse our set and gave us some invaluable pointers and advice.

The song we chose from this group was a no-brainer given what’s going on today here in LA and across the country. They’re dragging kids out of their homes, beating ‘em up in the streets, throwing ‘em in jail. So, at this point, there’s only one thing to do….

Randy starts up a heavy groove. Kim begins dancing in the classic Hip-Hop style.

Myron: And that’s FIGHT THE POWER!!!!!

The stage lights blaze on. While Myron was talking, Charlie and Ben had performed a quick costume change into black Mao suits, berets, and Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. They perform elaborate marches around Myron in rhythm with the music, and the rest of the CC Girls join Kim in her Hip-Hop dance.  

The crowd erupts and within seconds, everyone is dancing in the aisles.

Liz: [Dancing with Erica and Valerie] Now this is the shit!

Erica: Grooooovvvvyyyy!

Valerie: Say ‘Yeah!’ boyyyyyyyy!

Erica: Elvis was a hero to most…

Liz: …but he never meant SHIT to me!

Valerie: …that sucker was simple and plain!

Liz: Fuck him and John Wayne!

When the number is finished, the stage goes dark again. This time Charlie comes up to a lone illuminated mic.

Charlie: Now, outside of Ridgemont, the cops been hassling everyone between the ages of twelve and twenty, but you know they’ve been saving some special grief for the brothers and sisters…

Whistles from the crowd.

Charlie: …and the Latinos and Latinas…

Boy in the Audience: Fuck the po-lice!

Charlie: So, to the LAPD and to the Feds, I have just one question….

Girl in the Audience: Ask it Charlie!

Charlie: AM I BLACK ENOUGH FOR YOU?!

Randy hits the turntables and Myron and Ben join Charlie at the mics, where they rap in unison.

Will and Chloe have returned to their seats to give Will a breather.

Will: Our students aren’t just brilliant musicians and performers, they’ve packed some serious messages into their sets. And the audience is really responding. I mean, look at them! [Gestures at the crowd, which is pulsing with energy]

Chloe: We’re in a weird position, Will. Things are heavenly inside our little bubble, but they’ve gone to hell outside of it. We all know kids who are still out there; most of us have cousins or siblings or friends in the regular school system. We hear what’s going on. I’m not surprised how intense this has been.

Will: [Soberly] I know.

Chloe: All of these conflicting feelings — sadness, hope, fury, joy, misery, ecstasy — and some of these kids are young — just fourteen or fifteen — not to mention inexperienced. They grew up in a run-of-the-mill American suburb. How many of them could ever have imagined they’d find themselves in the middle of all this?

Will: I was so fixated on insulating you guys that I never considered how torn you’d be; that you might even feel guilty about being at New Ridgemont High. [Hangs his head.]

Chloe: [Takes his hand and whispers to him] Courage, sweetheart. We’re all in this together.

The Compton Boys play a string of classic Rap songs from the 1980s, until they reach the end of their set. Randy joins Myron, Ben, Charlie, and the CC Girls at the front of the stage.

Myron: This is our last number, y’all!

Charlie: And we want to dedicate it…

Ben: …to Mitch Bennet.

Loud hoots and whistles. Several blasts from an air horn.

Randy: Come out here, Mitchie!

Mitch has been standing stage right and comes jogging over. Kim hugs and kisses him. He is glowing.

Randy: [Puts his arm around Mitch] We were hanging out in the student lounge listening to this one, when we first met you, man.

Mitch: [Choked with emotion] I remember it like it was yesterday.

Myron: And since then, you’ve become one of the posse.

Ben: A dear friend.

Mitch: I feel the same way!

Charlie: So, this one’s for you, Mitch. [Turns to the audience] Let’s see you all on your feet!

The audience, as one, rises from their seats.

Randy: And please welcome back the Kids of the Black Hole. We need everyone in on this.

The crowd roars as Joanne, Stacey, Tim, Billy, Marty, and Fran return to the stage. Lee rolls out Marty’s drum kit, which is on a wheeled platform.

Marty sits at the kit and begins laying down a beat.

Myron, Charlie, Ben, Randy, Joanne, Stacey, and Tim: [In unison] RUN! D! M! C!

The audience goes ballistic.

Kevin: [To Sean] Holy shit!! They planned this all along!

Sean: [Grinning from ear to ear] Looks like it!

Randy: [Having returned to the turntables and at the top of his lungs] ROCK BOX!!!!!

Fran cranks out the opening riff of the RUN DMC classic, and the two bands close out the show together. The atmosphere is electric.

It’s almost 9pm. Mitch, Laurie, Brian, Lance, and Lee have collected the ballots from the audience. (The faculty agreed ahead of time that they would not vote.) After running through them twice and conferring among themselves, the five convene on the stage around the mic.

Mitch: Students, faculty, we’ve tallied the votes, and we have a winner!!

A huge cheer goes up from the crowd. There are shouts of “Call it!” and “Tell us!” Mitch holds up his hands, until there is silence.

Mitch: In what may be the closest Battle of the Bands in history, our winner is The Compton Boys, by a single vote!

There is a chorus of shouting, cheering, and stamping of feet. Lee disappears offstage for a moment and returns with a large gold trophy.

Mitch: Myron, Charlie, Ben, Randy, girls, please come up and receive your trophy as the winners New Ridgemont High’s first Battle of the Bands!

The audience goes crazy as the Compton Boys and CC girls come up to the stage to accept their award, which Charlie and Ben hold aloft. The Kids of the Black Hole join them and they all raise their hands together in a final moment of exuberance, triumph and joy.